Gemotions

I'm not sure what I expected when I opened the door. Maybe nothing. Maybe a package. Not this. The words, so blunt and impersonal, seemed to pierce through me.

I threw the notice across the room, the flimsy paper a projectile of my fear. My chest tightened. My mouth went dry. My apartment, which had always felt like a sanctuary, suddenly felt like a prison.

I began to rearrange the furniture, a desperate attempt to regain some control over the chaos. It didn't work. The notice was still there, a constant reminder of the storm brewing.